It was very, very, very tough getting out of bed after
only three hours of sleep. I got up at 5:30 a.m. and headed into
the bathroom. I looked the way sandpaper felt. I splashed water
on my face and arrived at the Anchorage Depot by 6:00 a.m. I was
here to meet Harold Emerick for the first time. Harold and I had
been swapping emails for several years and he had sent me photos and video
from his previous Alaska trip.

I waited and waited and waited. I began to wonder
if a few of the guys in the depot were Harold and we were just not connecting.
I really was in no mood to go around asking every guy there, "Are you Harold?"
He and his girl friend finally showed up at 6:25 a.m. They were running
late due to flight delays and rental car difficulties. We talked
on and on about modeling and railfanning. Although their train didn't
depart until 6:45 a.m., I could see the anxiety in his girl friend's eyes.
After they boarded, I hung around and took photos of the train until it
departed.

I returned to Don's and took a quick shower. This
was enough to pry my eyes open the rest of the way plus help fade the dark
circles under my eyes. I drove to the Hilton Hotel Restaurant and
entered at 7:50 a.m. I had made arrangements with a railroad employee
to buy them breakfast there at 8:00 a.m. as a small token of my appreciation
for all the information they had given me over the years. I waited
for forty minutes before I finally gave up. Since I was to meet Jim
Somerville at Peggy's Restaurant at 10:00 a.m., I decided to eat breakfast
there.

I slid into a seat behind the messy counter and was immediately
given a menu. That was the last quick thing I got there. The
restaurant seemed understaffed and the waitress moved with the speed of
a asthmatic snail. A group of three men walked out the door when
they did not even receive menus after five or so minutes. The wait
was indeed long, but the waffles and reindeer sausage were pretty good.

Jim Somerville walked into the restaurant at 10:00 a.m.
sharp. After a brief greeting, I followed him to Merrill Field.
Now I told you already that I have motion sickness problems. Well,
they get even worse when I am short on sleep. Therefore, I was fairly
certain I would see my breakfast again. I warned Jim about this,
but he didn't seem the slightest bit concerned.

Trivia: On August 2, 1909, the Army
formally accepted their first airplane, the Wright Military Flyer, called
signal Corps Airplane No. 1. The plane cost $25,000 and the Wright
Brothers received a $5,000 performance award because the machine exceed
the 40-mph speed requirement.

After logging his flight plan ("so they know where to
look for us if we don't come back."), we drove over to his plane.
He untied it from the hooks in the ground, cleaned the windows with Pledge
furniture polish and helped me into my five point seat harness. We
were airborne at 10:30 a.m. and soon put the city of Anchorage behind us.
Turnagain Arm was just stunningly beautiful from the air. Jim asked
me how low I wanted him to fly while I was taking train pictures.
"How low can you go?" I asked. "Fifty feet when I'm over water, higher
if I'm over land." Fifty feet! Whoa! No, the current
altitude of 300 feet was fine.

Our first train sighting was the south bound Whittier
shuttle using the two RDCs as passenger cars. In less than two miles,
we encountered the north bound Coastal Classic. I was certain we
were about to witness a head on collision. However, the south bound
Whittier shuttle continued on until it passed a siding and then backed
in. I realized the north bound Coastal Classic was moving at a crawl
to give the other train time to get into the siding. Silly me!
I bet they do this all the time.

Jim Somerville's Super Decathlon

Whittier shuttle with RDCs

Twenty Mile Bridge

Spiraling over Portage,
I was able to get some pretty good photos of the "Y". From this angle,
it is easy to see how the earthquake had dropped the level of the land
and allowed sea water to pour in, thus killing all the trees. Furthermore,
it was obvious how much the railroad had to build up the roadbed to rise
above the new water level.

We followed the line and encountered that same work train
that had been following me since Healy. I snapped a photo or two
of it just before it reached the five tunnels. Jim began to set me
up for an excellent photo that showed four of the five tunnels in a row.
He told me to let him know when I had the shot so he could pull up before
hitting the mountains. When I finally said, "Okay, I got it!", he
sharply rolled the plane to the left and pulled up. The contents
of my stomach began to stir violently. I began sweating and my mouth
began to water. "You better not do any more of that!" I announced.
It took almost all my concentration to keep my breakfast down.

Soon we were hovering over the old Loop District.
I got some great aerial shots which showed the old railroad grade.
We then went through Grandview
and Moose
Pass. As we approached Seward, we could see it was socked in
with heavy fog so we set our course for Whittier. As we got close
to the top of the mountain that separated us from Whittier, the plane began
to shake violently from the wind gusts pouring over the peak. I told
Jim I didn't want to see it bad enough to lose my breakfast so he turned
the plane around.

The "Y" at Portage

Remnants of the old Loop

Scars from the old grade

four of the five tunnels are visible

Looking back over the old Loop District

Snow River Bridge

After leaving Tunnel,
Jim said we would return to Anchorage via a different route. We traveled
through a rugged wilderness area that provided good views of backpackers,
moose and Dall Sheep. Once back in Anchorage, Jim provided me with
opportunities to photograph Anchorage Sand and Gravel, the airport, Elmendorf
Air Force Base and Fort Richardson Army Base. Much to the relief
of my stomach, our plane touched down at 1:05 p.m.

I paid Jim for his services by buying his lunch at the
Snow Goose. We got a seat out on the balcony. The warm sun
felt good and we enjoyed the beautiful view. The bacon cheeseburger
I ordered tasted great and helped settle my stomach significantly.
I took Jim back to his car and thanked him for a fantastic experience.

Returning to Don's condo, he reminded me that we still
needed to look at his 8 mm films. After retrieving his projector
from the basement, we watched films of the 1964 earthquake, the rotary
throwing snow, a moose having a tough time running through deep snow and
steam locomotive 557 under power. He also told stories of a train
wreck he had experienced and the tank car fire at Houston. We could
have talked all day.

Through
a previously arranged appointed, I pulled into Jack Klingbeil's driveway
at 6:00 p.m. Leading me into his garage, I saw his inch and a half
scale SD70MAC. I am always amazed at people who can make things with
their hands, but this was an absolute marvel to behold. Not only
that, but he was making two of them. Maybe one of them is for me
for Christmas? No, I guess not. We then went to his office
and looked through his extensive collection of old photos, negatives, historic
documents and other stuff. The time just flew and I left at 8:30
p.m. It was unfortunate that I wasn't able to connect with him earlier
in the trip. It would have given me more time to spend looking through
his photos plus getting the opportunity to ride some of the inch and a
half scale locomotives at the track next to the museum in Wasilla.
It was just another indication that I needed two or three more days to
pack it all in. Actually, I should probably just consider moving
here.

On
the way back to Don's, I stopped at the Anchorage yard and discovered passenger
car number 300 was there! By the time I got out of my car with camera
in hand, it was blocked behind some other cars. It was agonizing
watching the train going forward a few feet then backward a few feet, over
and over again, keeping No. 300 just beyond my view. I kept looking
at my watch, calculating the time it would take me to get to the airport
and muttering, "Come on, come on!" And then it appeared for a brief
moment. Admittedly, it wasn't the best looking photograph, but I
had it. I took two photos, leaped into the car and then high tailed
it out of there.

I entered Don's condo and declared I now had photos of
every Alaska Railroad passenger car. He congratulated me as I grabbed
my bags. I felt bad about saying a quick good-bye; bad because it
was so rushed and bad because I would indeed miss my friend.

I filled up the rental car with gasoline and returned
it. Amy took me to the airport all the while telling me what a great
time she had had on her road trip. The line at American Airlines
was terribly long and it took me half an hour to make it to the front.
As I headed for the plane, I noticed the line was twice as long as when
I had initially entered it. For a change, airport security was a
breeze.

As I waited at the gate, a voice came over the loud speaker
declaring, "We will have a passenger on board this flight who is highly
allergic to peanuts. They are even allergic to the smell of peanuts.
If you have anything that contains peanuts, even a Reese's Cup, please
inform an attendant immediately." I repeated out loud, "We will have
a passenger on board this flight who is highly addicted to the Alaska Railroad.
They even get high at the smell of the Alaska Railroad. If you have
anything with you that deals with the Alaska Railroad, please bring it
to that passenger immediately." The passengers seated around me were
not amused.

We boarded the plane late and the flight was packed full.
I was glad I had a window seat so that I could rest my head against the
wall. The plane took off at 12:15 a.m. As I glanced at the
man in the seat beside me, I noticed he resembled Jeffrey Dahmer.